


A Little Reminder That You're Mine

by DarylDixonGrimes



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Apologies, Blowjobs, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Smut, anger fucking, bottom!daryl, dominant daryl (sorta), i don't usually like or do dominant daryl but these are special circumstances, public displays of goddammit yer mine, spit, top!rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 12:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4136694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarylDixonGrimes/pseuds/DarylDixonGrimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick's flirting with Jessie again, and it's pissing Daryl the fuck off, because Rick is HIS, godfuckingdammit. When Michonne suggests that maybe Rick just needs to be reminded that what he's doing isn't realistic, Daryl decides to take the problem into his own hands. </p><p>Featuring an angry hunter and his apologetic boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Reminder That You're Mine

**Author's Note:**

> *sobs because I can't stop writing*  
> I'LL NEVER BE FREE

Rick was doing it _again_.  
  
Daryl watched him stop Jessie in the middle of the street, a basket of supplies for Morgan on her hip. He could see even from where he stood that her eyes were red, and she was probably only working just to forget everything that had happened the previous night. He could also see Rick's body language, the way he tilted his head, the way he fucking touched her.  
  
Daryl growled.  
  
The bastard was fucking flirting with her like he hadn't just shot her husband in the face less than 24-hours ago.  
  
“Yeah, so that's a problem,” Michonne said, stepping up beside him on the porch.  
  
“You're damn fuckin right it's a goddamn problem,” Daryl snapped. There had been a time when Rick had looked at him that way, had touched him like that.  
  
They had spent months together at the prison, hands over each others' mouths to muffle their orgasms, having sex in every available corner—the guard tower, their cells, the shower room. Rick had kissed him like he was the only thing he ever wanted, and Daryl had believed it. Idiot.   
  
When they'd had to let the prison go, after they'd found each other again, it had been all soft and loving touches. Grateful that they were back together, that they'd both survived. Hell, even in the train car at Terminus, while they planned their escape, Rick's hand sometimes strayed to his, assuring him that whatever it took to get out of there, they were going to do it side-by-side.  
  
And then there was the time on the road before Alexandria... They had taken so many guard shifts together, having hurried, feverish sex while they listened for twigs cracking or the sound of Judith starting to whine in her sleep.  
  
But something happened after they walked through the gates of the safe zone, and that something was Rick losing his goddamn mind.  
  
Daryl chewed on his thumb, watching Rick talk with his hand on Jessie's shoulder. Daryl tried so hard not to hate her. It wasn't her fault. She was broken and vulnerable, and hell, he didn't know if she even fully realized what Rick was trying to do. Either way, it's not like she knew the man was spoken for.  
  
Then again, Rick seemed to have forgotten that too.  
  
Daryl dug his teeth into his nail, every little bite stinging as blood welled up, following the curve of his thumbnail. But he didn't care if he chewed the thing down the damn cuticle. It was the only thing keeping him fucking sane.  
  
“What do you think we should do about it?” Michonne asked. “Besides kill him, I mean.”

She was just joking, of course, but Daryl's blood was at a rapid boil, so hot that he was surprised the salty copper coming from his thumb wasn't burning a hole through his tongue. 

“Can we?” he asked, joking too, but still very much wanting to wring Rick's neck.  
  
Mine. You said you were fucking mine. You _promised_.  
  
The worst was that Rick had pretty much been ignoring him since Daryl backed out of his and Carol's quasi-plan. It was like he was being double-punished. No sex, no love-making, no kisses, not even a decent conversation. And he had to watch him put his hands all over _her._  
  
“I suppose we could,” Michonne said. “What were you thinking? In the kitchen with the candlestick? Bedroom with the wrench?”

Daryl's mouth twitched a little, but the hint of a laugh didn't do much to quell his rage as he watched Rick tilt his head to find Jessie's eyes. He slammed his hand down on the railing around the porch. 

“Bastard.”

“Maybe you need to remind him,” Michonne said. 

“Remind him of what?”

“He's living out some suburban fantasy he used to have with his wife, but this isn't that world just because it feels like it. And Jessie isn't Lori either.”

He looked over at Michonne, literally chewing over what she had just said. 

Of fucking course. That's exactly what the asshole was doing. Daryl had just been too busy stewing in his rage cocoon to notice.  
  
Reminded.  
  
Rick just needed to be fucking reminded that the world was still fucked outside the walls. And damn it to hell, maybe the Alexandrians needed to know that Rick was claimed too, just to avoid any confusion with any of them in the future.  
  
He laid his crossbow down on the porch chair and plodded down the stairs, walking across the yard with purpose.  
  
It was a beautiful day in spite of the horribleness of the previous night, and so other than the Monroe family—mourning two losses now—a lot of people were still out and about. People strolled up and down the street together. Aaron and Eric had their garage door thrown wide open, working on the old beater, Eric sitting on a stool and handing him tools. Morgan was even out on his porch with his feet up on the railing, watching Rick with a blank look on his face.  
  
Plenty of witnesses. Plenty of people who would know now that Rick was fucking off limits.  
  
Daryl marched down the street, watching Jessie's swollen eyes go from Rick to him, her expression a little wary. Rick turned around.  
  
“You need someth-Daryl!”  
  
Daryl grabbed him by the hair and firmly held him in place, and then he kissed the ever-living shit out of him in front of God and everyone.  
  
Mine. You are fucking _mine_. Remember? Remember this mouth? Remember how it felt on your fucking dick, you piece of shit?  
  
There was a moment of hesitation from Rick, his body stiffening up, and then all the tension fell away, the other man's arms snaking around the leather of Daryl's vest and squeezing him tight. Rick moaned into his mouth.  
  
“You forget somethin?” Daryl asked, pulling Rick out of the kiss with a handful of wavy locks.  
  
“I reckon I might've,” Rick said, looking a bit dazed. Daryl claimed his mouth again, the two of them easily molding back together, lips forming to one another like electrons in a covalent bond.  
  
“I think you owe me somethin, Rick,” Daryl said. “Don't you?”

“If you mean an apology, then probably,” Rick said. “I'm sorry.”

“You will be,” Daryl said. He grabbed him by the collar of his uniform jacket and hauled him back to the house, Michonne abandoning the porch after glancing at them both with a grin. 

Daryl had never been the dominant one in their relationship, but it was so easy to slip into it with all of the fire in his body. He had emerged from his rage cocoon, spreading angry butterfly wings. And Rick was going to fucking get it.  
  
He pulled his lover upstairs and threw him onto his bed.  
  
No, not his bed. _Theirs._ This should have been their bed from the first night they actually slept in rooms, and it was bullshit that it wasn't.  
  
“Cuffs,” Daryl demanded, holding out his hand.  
  
“Daryl, will you take it easy? Can we talk ab-”

“Now,” the hunter growled, and Rick pulled them out of his belt—the whole thing reassembled properly after last night—and handed them over. Daryl forced Rick's arms above his head and bound them around the slats in the headboard. 

“Bullshit what you've been doin to me.”

“I know, Daryl. God, I know.”

“Remember all those times you said you loved me, promised I was the only one you'd ever want?”

“I'm sorry. I didn't want... not really. I was just...”

“Confused,” Daryl said. “And now I'm gonna unconfuse you.” He grabbed Rick through his jeans, massaging the bulge in the denim, expertly drawing a moan out of the other man's mouth.

“Fuck,” Rick groaned, rolling his hips up into Daryl's hand. 

“Mhm,” Daryl said. “Startin to remember, huh?”

“Sorry I ever forgot,” Rick said. “Shit. I've been a real asshole.”

“You ever let me see you talkin to her or touchin her like that again, and this is gone.”

“Daryl, let me at least...” Rick struggled against the cuffs, and Daryl shook his head. 

“Nuh uh,” Daryl said. “You've been a bad boy, Rick. Gonna take what's comin to ya.”

Daryl leaned down and unbuckled Rick's holster, dropping it onto the bedroom floor with a loud clunk. He tugged the other man's boots off next, pulling his socks off and letting them fall to the ground at the foot of the bed. Then, he ran his hands up the denim covering Rick's legs, rubbing from ankle to the apex of his thighs before undoing them, yanking them and his underwear off and throwing them behind him, giving approximately zero shits where they landed.  

Rick had a pretty decent erection going, the whole thing listing toward his stomach. Daryl looked at it and then at his eyes, the blue of them barely visible in the dim light.   
  
“That damn well better have been my doin,” Daryl said, crawling over to undo his button-up, letting it and his jacket fall open to expose his chest and stomach. Daryl caressed both. God, he was still so damn sexy. How dare he look that good when Daryl was trying to be fucking mad at him.  
  
“It was,” Rick said. “I promise you, it was.”

“Good.” Daryl found a comfortable position next to him on the bed, and then he licked up the side of Rick's length before taking it all into his mouth, relaxing the muscles in his throat and swallowing it down deep. 

“Shit,” Rick hissed. Daryl pulled off.  
  
“Yeah,” Daryl said, letting his lips brush against the head of Rick's erection while he spoke. “Rememberin how we take care of each other, huh?”

“I'm so sorry,” Rick said. “Shit, how did I ever go without this?”

“Lucky you're getting it now, you bastard.”

“I know,” Rick said. “Believe me, I know.”

Daryl took him back in his mouth again, bobbing up and down the length, letting his lips slide along the soft, silky flesh of Rick's cock. He flicked his tongue a little near the top, making Rick growl in the back of his throat, begging for more. 

“Faster, Daryl. Please. Fuck.”  
  
Daryl stopped.  
  
“You don't get to ask me for shit, Rick,” Daryl said. “You can say you're sorry or tell me how good it feels, and that's fuckin it.”

“Sorry,” Rick said. “I'm so goddamn sorry.”

“Better damn well be.”

“Can I tell you I still love you even if I fucked up pretty good there for a minute?”

“Guess you can say that too,” Daryl said. “Don't know if I'll believe you though.”

“Daryl,” Rick said softly, but Daryl just leaned down and took one of his balls into his mouth, suckling on it and rolling his tongue against the extremely sensitive flesh. Rick groaned his name roughly. 

“That oughta do,” Daryl said, and then he stood up.  
  
“What?” Rick asked. “You're not... leaving me here like this, are you?”

“No,” Daryl said. “Unlike you, I'm not a dick.”

“I'm sorry.” 

Daryl stood up and undid his jeans, kicking off his boots and letting them drop. He started to walk back to Rick.  
  
“Your shirt,” Rick said. “Please let...” He bit his lip and shook his head, mumbling an apology.  
  
Daryl took his shirt off anyway though. They weren't out on the road anymore where he could get away with smelling like stale sweat all the time, and he wasn't in the mood to do laundry since Carol had shown him how to work the machine and told him to do it his damn self like a grown man.  
  
Daryl approached the bed again, laying down beside Rick.  
  
“Here,” the hunter said, shoving his fingers into the other man's mouth. Rick slobbered all over them.  
  
“You're not gonna, you know, fuck _me,_ are you?” Rick asked, looking at Daryl's cock like it was a venomous snake.   
  
But Daryl reached down and slipped his wet digits into his own ass, and he felt like that was a sufficient enough answer. Yeah, right. Like he'd ever give up the glorious feeling of a dick in his ass just to prove a point.   
  
“Bet you wanna watch me open myself up, huh?” Daryl asked, and Rick nodded. “Well that's too fuckin bad.”  
  
“You gonna forgive me?”

“When I'm done,” Daryl said. “As for when I'll actually trust you again, well, that's another damn story, Rick.”

Daryl was quickly satisfied with how much he'd stretched himself open. Then again, he'd been doing a lot of frustrated self-pleasuring with a toy he'd found and hidden away, so he pretty much stayed prepared these days. 

He rolled over and slung his leg over Rick's hips.  
  
“Spit,” he ordered, and Rick gathered up mouthful and blew it into his palm. Daryl rubbed it on the other man's dick and then added some of his own to the mix, slicking it up from base to tip. He rose up before it could air-dry too much and grabbed the thing around the middle, holding it steady and guiding it to his hole before lowering himself down on it, enjoying the stretch and burn of his body's resistance before it gave in and let him take Rick in all the way.  
  
The constable moaned loud.  
  
“God, I didn't even realize how much I missed your ass until just now.”

“Think she would've felt this good?”

“Who?” Rick asked. 

Daryl smirked. 

“Good fuckin answer,” the hunter said, sliding his body up Rick's length and then easing back down on it.  
  
“So fucking hot and tight,” Rick said. “You look gorgeous, Daryl. Always so damn gorgeous.”

“Guess you don't need me to tell you that you do too,” Daryl said, glaring at Rick's body like his hotness offended him. 

“No, but it's nice to hear.”  
  
Rick grabbed the chains of the cuffs and moaned as Daryl quickened his movements, enjoying the rough spit-lubed drag of Rick's cock inside his body. The hunter sped up more, leaning back on his arms for leverage and bouncing on Rick's erection, each movement sending it slamming against his prostate, making Daryl cry out, his ecstasy echoing off the walls.  
  
“Godfuckingshit,” Daryl whined.  
  
“Jesus, I was a fucking idiot for forgetting how good this is, how fucking beautiful you are when you...you're...this.”

“Yeah, well, least now you remember.” 

“Thanks for even reminding me,” Rick said, struggling to get the words out between little groans and growls and deep moans. “Hell, I don't even deserve to fuckin look at you right now.”

“Shit. I'm gonna cum,” Daryl said, pulling his body off of Rick's length and sliding up on his chest. 

“What are you doing?” Rick asked.  
  
“Makin sure you never forget again.” Daryl grabbed his own cock and tugged on it vigorously, his breath coming out in panting huffs while he stroked so hard the muscles in his arms burned. “Better close your eyes, _constable_.”

It took Rick a second to catch up with what Daryl had said, but then he did, slamming his baby blues shut just in time for Daryl to shoot cum all over his face, a glob of it landing right on his eyelid and spiking a few of his lashes together.

There. Hell, maybe that was Daryl's mistake from the beginning. He'd never properly marked Rick as his.  
  
“Know I ain't supposed to ask for anything, but can you at least wipe it out of my eye?”  
  
Daryl grabbed the top sheet, still balled up on the other side of the bed from where Rick had kicked it off that morning. He used it to wipe Rick's eyelid clean. Then he mopped up the rest with his fingers, forcing Rick to suck every last one of them clean. He expected that to be more of a punishment as Rick had never shown any interest in tasting him, but Rick moaned around his digits, greedily licking up every last drop.   
  
“Thank you,” Rick said. And Daryl wasn't sure if he was talking about him wiping it out of his eye or for the mouthful of cum he'd just subjected him to. Or maybe he was just thanking him for not dumping his sorry ass like he probably should have.   
  
“You're gonna wanna cum now too, I guess,” Daryl said. For a second, he considered the idea of just walking away like Rick had suggested earlier, leaving the other man there almost completely naked and cuffed to the bed. But no, he couldn't do that to him. And, damn it, it was hard to stay mad when you'd just had an orgasm.  
  
“You guess?” Rick asked, a little amused.  
  
“Tell me how damn sorry you are one more time, and I'll let you pick how you do it.”

“I'm sorry,” Rick said. “I'm sorry I let this place get to me like it did, sorry I let it take me away from you, sorry I made you feel like I didn't love you because you deserve a hell of a lot better than that or me. I lost my mind there for a bit, got caught up in wanting to make the perfect life for Carl and Judith when I already had as close to it as I'm ever gonna get with all of you. It sure as shit isn't happening again, Daryl. I'm yours. I've been yours. Still gonna be.”

Goddamn't. Rick was giving him his “apology eyes,” and Daryl's body was still practically rubber from his climax. He didn't stand a chance, especially with all those pretty words on top.  
  
The hunter took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the rest of his anger go along with it.  
  
“What do you want?” Daryl asked.  
  
“You,” Rick said.  
  
“Now you're just kissin my ass."  
  
“Uncuff me and let me do it,” Rick said. “Don't deserve anything else from you today.”

“Rick...”

“I mean it,” Rick said. 

Daryl found his holster belt on the floor and dug around for the handcuff key, unlocking them and setting them on the night stand.  
  
“At least let me do this,” Daryl said, licking Rick's palm. The constable nodded, wrapping it around himself. It didn't take more than a few tugs for him to finish, mopping it all off his stomach with the sheet.  
  
“Come here,” Rick said, shrugging off the rest of his clothes and laying back down. Daryl laid his head on his chest, finding it easy to mold his body around Rick's. Like they had never even taken a break (or a whatever the fuck that was).   
  
“You forget again,” Daryl said, “I won't come back.”

“I know,” Rick said, tenderly stroking his hair. “And you shouldn't.”

“But you won't, right?” Daryl asked. 

“No,” Rick said. “I won't. I promise.”

“You promised me a lot of shit before,” Daryl said. 

“I know.” Rick sighed and scrubbed over his face with his hand. “And I meant them. I do love you, and you do belong here with me.”

“I feel like an idiot for almost buyin that right now,” Daryl said. 

“Convinced you the first time.” Rick kissed the top of his head. “Just gotta do it again.”

“Anything I need to know about?” Daryl said. “Did you do anything besides flirt with her?”

“No,” Rick said. “Nothing you'd give a shit about at least.”

“So you did?” Daryl sat up and looked at him, searching for deception.

“I kissed her on the cheek,” Rick said. “That's it.”

“You swear?”

“I swear to you on every grave we've ever had to dig.” 

Daryl put his head back down, let Rick finger through his hair some more.  
  
“If it helps, I hate myself right now,” Rick said.

“A little,” Daryl said. “It's a start.”

“I'll take a start over another ending,” Rick said, thumbing the skin on Daryl's arm.

“Me too.”

They stayed like that for a while longer, until Daryl felt like they were probably pushing it with Michonne, who was likely covering for them and keeping the house free of kids (and everyone else). Their people had known about them before, but Rick still didn't want Carl to hear them in the throes of passion together. 

When they finally dressed and went back downstairs, Daryl found Michonne on the porch with Judith in her arms, Carl hanging out on the stairs playing with some hand-held video game.  
  
“Did you take care of it?” she asked Daryl, letting Judith chew on her finger.

Rick stepped out behind him, smoothing his uniform shirt down in the front. 

“Problem solved,” Daryl said, reaching back for the other man's hand. Rick clasped his without argument and smiled at him, giving him a single nod.  
  
“I love you,” Rick said, right there in front of everyone on the porch. Carl made a little gagging noise, but he kept on with his game.  
  
“Don't you forget it,” Daryl said.  
  
“Never again.” Rick leaned down and kissed Judith on her cheek before ruffling Carl's hair and setting off down the street to finish his rounds. Jessie was nowhere in sight.  
  
Not that it mattered anyway, because through every single death and every single supposedly safe place that they'd watched go up in flames, though every other hardship and trial their world wrought upon them, one way or another, Rick and Daryl would always find each other again. 


End file.
